Post Thanksgiving

You would have thought that I would have done a big old “blah-blah-blah-Blog” about how thankful I am this holiday season….etc etc etc ad nauseum.

I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

You know why?  Because each and every day I have something to be thankful for.
And I remember to be thankful EACH day for those small (and not so small things)-

I am thankful for a day/week/month with no seizures.
I am thankful when there is no traffic leaving school so Jack doesn’t get upset.
I am thankful for non rainy days so Jack can be outside.I am thankful for DVD’s that don’t have 10 minutes of previews before the expected show.
I am thankful for the co-op putting those gluten free high end chips on sale.
I am thankful for those small moments of awareness when Jack makes a connection.
I am thankful for laminate floors that make cleaning up fuzzball mess much easier than carpet.
I am thankful each day for continued health and learning.

I am grateful and thankful for a daughter who rises to the challenge each day– who can spot a seizure, stem a temper tantrum,  doesn’t mind being a slinky holder or a partner on the bounce-poline, and loves unconditionally.

I am thankful and grateful for a husband who seems to have super-powers– who works, loves, balances, teaches, shops, cooks, and MORE with his eye on the big picture of FAMILY.

And I am thankful for my family.

Last Thursday was about ALL of that and a truly bitchin’ turkey dinner.

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Full Disclosure

A good friend of mine advised me when I started this blog that it was not only about JACK, but about myself as well.
So….
I guess it’s time to come clean.

I am NOT Jack’s mother.
That is to say:
I did not give birth to Jack.
Someone else did.  And she is no longer in Jack’s life save for a few emails every couple of weeks to ask after him.

When I first met my husband, there was a lightening bolt/ground shaking awareness that THIS was going to be THE ONE.
We had a recognition.

It never occurred to me during the courting process or the future planning stages to NOT let myself fall deeper in love based on the fact Clay had a special needs child.  I’ve been oohed and ahhed over for “taking so much on”  and for “stepping in” .
Pffffffffffffft
I fell in love with a man.  He had this child.  You don’t step away because it looks too hard.

And so I threw myself into it. I read up on autism.  I learned about TS.  I saw seizures and nursed Jack afterwards.
I administered meds.
I proceeded with love, caution, and compassion.
I gained Jack’s trust first, then love.

Jack doesn’t call me “mama” or “mother”.  He calls me  “Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeena”.
His sisters he calls “Darrrruh” and “Seruhfeena”.
Clay he calls “daddy”.
There is no familial emotion behind the “daddy” for Jack.
That is to say for Jack, Clay is “daddy”- it is his name– it doesn’t have the same meaning behind it as it does to you or I- he could as just as easily call Clay: “spinning”
That is NOT to say, however, that our names do not get said with love and joy.
Because they DO.

Oh hey….
and I just went to Dictionary.com and surprise…
Looks like you don’t need to birth a child to be a mother.

But then again, I am very happy to be “Teeeeeeeena” in Jack’s life.

 

 

THAT word

Today, in internet land I posted a comment on a FB page stating that I would NOT join the “let’s all get behind Papa John’s pizza” deal and “boost the economy” by buying said pizza
My reason, I stated, was:
I refuse to support a company that claims Obama is making it hard for them to make any money at all therefore cannot give their employees proper benefits, BUT they can afford to give away two million pizzas.

I thought it was pretty sound reasoning.
And it is documented all over the interwebs.
AND…well, I stated it nicely with no name calling.

THIS was posted after it:
Give away pizza? Are u a retard? Another liberal who doesn’t understand.

yeah.
THAT word.

I asked the person, very nicely to consider the use of this pejorative, as name calling is not productive.

His response?

Tina I don’t care what you want and you can take that to the bank. Retard is a word in a dictionary and was the acceptable term until libs decided it wasn’t.

Oh so compassionate and clever, don’t you think?

While I DO understand that this word is INDEED in the dictionary, it should be used in a way so that it is a VERB

Take note that is is NOT used as a noun until #4

4.Slang: Disparaging .

a.a mentally retarded  person.
b.a person who is stupid, obtuse, or ineffective in some way: a hopeless social retard.
I do not identify myself as a liberal or “lib” as this internet troll claims.
I do not usually identify myself as any one thing-
except, perhaps ,compassionate.
I do not think “libs” ruined the use of this word.
I think this word is used as a last bastion of those without an argument.
And……while Jackson may not care about the use of this word, I do.
He may be developmentally delayed
He may be brained damaged.
He may even BE “retarded”But I can guarantee you that he has a kinder heart than the person who insulted me today using that word.

And to paraphrase the troll….
I’ll take THAT to the bank.

Resistance is Futile

The all knowing omnipotent “they” say there are two certain in life:
death and taxes.

I would humbly add to that :
My inability to not be  a clutterbug
andThe constant presence of Lego’s and gears on our floor.

I went to a new friends house the other day.  It was amazing.  Well decorated.  Clean.
And no piles of “things” anywhere to be found.
And no indiscriminate small part toys on the floor or lurking in corners. (I checked!)
There were also no random cheerios or chips pieces anywhere to be found.
No errant threads or fabric scraps lurking about!

You know, what with him being brain damaged and developmentally delayed-I’m gonna’ go ahead and give Jack a pass this go around.  He throws thing for the sheer joy of watching their arc and seeing them spin.

Me?  There is no excuse.  I have an “I’ll just stack it here until I can get to it” mentality.
I am loathe to throw out any piece of fabric, ribbon, or doo-dad that I perceive can be useful in some unforeseen time.

Maybe I should just take a tip from the boy and throw it all away…..

joyfully, with glee, for the sheer joy of letting it go……

hmmmmmmmmm

I’ll get back to you on this.  🙂

What does it mean?

Every night, as I walk into the bedroom with Jack he does something that annoys the heck out of me and I can’t seem to make him stop.
He knocks over the plastic laundry hamper that sits next to the bed.
It is not a violent motion.  It is not a malicious moment.
It is just a “hey, there’s that thing…..I need to tip it over” matter of fact motion.
Sure.  I could move it.
But there is really no other place to put it.
As he climbed into bed last night, after tipping over the basket, I got to thinking about his routines.
And somehow it occurred to me that this has a purpose for him.
Whatever it is…..I am not sure WHAT it is….
but it is part of his going to bed…..
He sees me close the door.  Turn on the sleep machine.
Pull back the covers.
Perhaps this is HIS contribution.

I am going to focus on being less annoyed.
And see this through Jacks eyes.

Wish me luck.  ❤